


The Rest is Silence

by Raven (Temaris)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-06
Updated: 2006-11-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1681367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaris/pseuds/Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the words count, he doesn't have them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest is Silence

What's the point of a thousand words, when he can't manage three? Two would do, I'm not Ezra, I'm not going to insist on grammatical English. There he goes, hands flapping with the breeze of his jawing. She was ... and so... and I ...

And I just sit and listen, like I don't give a shit. Yeah, he's fucking some woman. Fine, whatever, another whisky, let it burn, burn. Different day, same story. I got so I could tell where he was in the story from the intonation of his voice -- that drop and darken, he's leaning forward, I don't even need to look to see it, and sure's hell, at least two of them are leaning in too, hooked by that voice whispering its secrets.

His voice stops, and he's leaning back again, a grin on his face, and my mouth twitches in sympathy, even with my back to him, and I wait.

"No way! No -- Buck, no *way*!" But JD is willing to believe, he wants to believe there are girls like that out there, even if he's only ever going to get them vicariously.

Stick with your gut reaction, kid, it's good. No way. Listen to those honeyed lies, dripping off in smooth tongued confidence. It's a trick, watch the lady, watch the lady... why, she's not here -- or here -- or here -- it's a shell game, a con, as slick as anything our professional con could pull. I sometimes wonder if he knows, when I see that appreciative look on Ezra's face, like a man watching a respected colleague.

Sometimes Ezra looks at me, after, and we know, me and him, that the game is Buck's choice -- but the hidden truth is mine.

A thousand words, and damned if he ever puts two of them together like I want 'em, but that's nothing. The words are lies. It's the sound of his voice, and the brush of his lips, and the touch of his hand on my back as we pass on a busy street. It's the way he watches me from under his hat, and the way he happens to be there to do the watching, casually sitting there already, waiting for me to walk by.

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally published at [Drinkin'n'Fighting](http://dnf.slashcity.org/viewstory.php?sid=482)


End file.
